Above The Sky
Chapter 108 - 108 101 Bitter Dream

108: Chapter 101 Bitter Dream 108: Chapter 101 Bitter Dream Terra Year 768, June 23, noon.

As the bells of the central church chimed, another delicate rain began to fall, filling the space between heaven and earth with rain threads as soft as fine velvet.

The radiance of the sun did not diminish in the slightest; the rain clouds parted, creating cracks through which beams of light, sharp as sword steps, cascaded upon the land and sea, interweaving and reflecting off each other.

In a standalone stone house along the coastal street, a white-haired little boy crouched in a corner of the courtyard, eagerly watching the ants.

The boy was about three or four years old, with soft, white shoulder-length hair and purple eyes fixed on the insects crawling on the ground.

His mouth curved into a happy smile.

The tips of the boy’s ears were slightly pointed, a trait of the elves, but if one had to be precise, he was in some sense a pure-blooded member of the White Folks.

On the Terra Continent, there is a plethora of races.

The Chalk People, the Crimson Sand People, the Gold People, the Black Iron People, Elves, Dwarves, Descendants of the Sea, and Demihumans, the Halflings and the Insect Folk…

To list them all, including each large race’s branches, would be enough to fill a book.

However, no matter who, whether Beastmen or Elves, Insect Folk or Gold People, all races could intermarry and produce offspring that could reproduce normally.

Yet, children of different racial heritage could not give birth to true mixed-bloods, only pure-bloods bearing some traits of the other race.

Even so, there were peculiar cases where Demihumans and Iron Folk married and gave birth to twins, with the older brother sporting beast ears and the younger being of the Iron Folk.

According to scholar studies, the ancestors of the races can even be traced back to almost the same group of progenitors, those initial ancestors known as ‘Proto-humans’ are the common forebears of all Terra races, and even the previous epoch’s civilizations.

The boy focused intently on observing the ants, seemingly oblivious to the light rain outside.

The grass ants of the Bison Mountain Range were smaller than the average land ant, measuring less than one centimeter in length.

They generally wouldn’t appear in cities because there was no decomposing leaf soil for them to ‘cultivate’ within human cities.

Feeding on fungi, the rotting leaves of plants were their natural farmland.

It is said that in some underground of deep forests and old woods, there exist massive ant cities, where extremely rare Spirit Mushrooms exist, valued far more than royal jelly and considered the best nourishment.

But even so, occasionally, grass ant colonies would appear within cities—perhaps the edge of a huge grass ant city had spread to this area, or maybe a group of immigrant ants had decided to develop their home here.

Regardless, this was a grand story stirring enough to reverberate through one’s heart, a legendary epic.

It’s just that ordinary people wouldn’t notice, nor would they care to see.

The adults are always contemplating things too grand and ethereal, while children find joy in seeking out these tiny pleasures.

“Ants, hardworking, cute,”

muttered the boy softly, not attempting to touch the grass ants.

It wasn’t because his brother had instructed him not to; he simply did not wish to disturb the lives of these small creatures.

Thus, in the drizzling rain, the boy quietly watched the ants transport leaves and trimmings of weeds into a nearby hole.

Amidst the interplay of clouds and light, slow footsteps sounded, then paused.

Dum, dum, dum.

A silhouette stood by the courtyard, the sound of iron boots clashing with the stone path ceased as a man watched the child with interest.

The man was draped in a black full-body armor decked with golden-red trims along the edges.

The brilliant Sun’s Eye was engraved on both shoulders, and he held his similarly emblemed helmet in his arms, revealing a handsome face.

With his pure black hair resembling seaweed, the somewhat languid man squinted at the boy, who in turn was absorbed in watching the ants.

“Child,”

after a while, confirming that the child was truly engrossed in watching the ants and had not noticed his arrival, the man squatted down and said across the wood rail that looked no different from the rest, “Are you watching the ants?”

“Mhm mhm,”

realizing someone was talking to him, the boy with purple eyes responded with a big smile, happily saying, “Ants, very responsible!

Admire, cute!”

“…Is that so?”

Noting the child’s unique way of speaking, the man lowered his gaze, thoughtfully saying, “But the ants’ every action is at the queen’s command.

Rather than say they are responsible, it might be more accurate to say they are blindly loyal.”

“Toiling all day without their own thoughts or dreams, aimlessly existing just for the queen and the colony’s continuation—is that truly cute?”

The boy clearly did not fully understand the question, but after thinking for a bit, he still replied earnestly, “Loyalty, also cute!”

“And…”

Looking towards the ants, he smiled faintly, “Ants don’t have, I have!”

“Haha, what are you comparing with ants?”

The man laughed unwittingly, “Really…

You’re so small, what do you know about thoughts and dreams?”

He wasn’t mocking, but rather like someone thoroughly bored, he simply sat down cross-legged in the rain and asked patiently, “So what is your dream?”

He had only intended to enjoy the child’s perplexed or unclear speech, yet unexpectedly, the boy seriously pondered before answering.

“To stop, stuttering,”

The boy’s pointed ears trembled slightly as he looked serious, counting on his fingers one by one, “Learn, math.”

“Help, brother.”

“When I grow up, take care of, uncle.”

“Become, someone important!”

“Seems like, that’s all…

Oh right!

There’s more!

Brother said once…”

The man started off just wanting to have some fun but his expression turned increasingly serious; the boy, however, continued happily counting on his fingers, “Make the South Ridge, peaceful!”

“Visit different places, see the stars!”

“Everyone together, eat lots, lots of meat!”

“Build a, flying, huge ship!”

Several times, the man wanted to say ‘enough’—he already understood that although the child might have a slight stutter, he was very intelligent.

Even if he didn’t understand fully, being able to express so many concepts was enough proof of the child’s cognitive abilities, far from being an ignorant youngster.

Yet he remained silent, listening to the cheerful child as he counted to ten, “Lastly!

The last one!”

“Together, we go to the world’s, end!”

“Hmm!” The boy nodded earnestly, delighted: “That’s it, a wish.

The one brother told me about!”

“…Very clear, very definite, full of passion.”

“Your brother is a good brother.

You’re not bad yourself.”

Standing up slowly, the man silently raised his head, gazing at the azure Southern Sea in the distance.

His eyes pierced through to the bottom of the distant deep sea, to the profound and deep shadow, and then he shook his head slightly: “Unfortunately…

I dare not have such expectations.”

Raising his head, the man took a look at the clouds in the sky, then reached out and patted the white-haired boy’s head, urging him: “Hurry back to your room, the rain is about to get heavier.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than lightning forked across the sky, thunder exploded, and the rainfall immediately intensified.

“Yep yep!

Brother also said the same.”

Seeing the rain pour, the boy also stood up.

He waved goodbye to the man who was also waving and smiling farewell: “Goodbye!

Unfamiliar big brother.”

“Goodbye.

You should call me uncle.”

The man watched with a smile as the boy trotted all the way back into his house.

He remained stationary in the pouring rain, the smile on his face fading slowly, leaving him expressionless.

Standing silently in place, he thought for a long time, then squatted down to look at the ants on the ground.

The downpour scattered the ants’ formation.

Some had already returned to their nests, some were drowned in the water, some had their ranks broken, some were still desperately rippling through the water current.

Those who had been saved early were naturally nowhere to be found, and those that had died had been washed away cleanly.

The ones visible were all still struggling.

“Hey…”

He reached out, plucked an ant from those inundated by the water, and looked at the grass ant that kept waving its antennae and forelegs, opening and closing its mouth parts, murmuring to himself: “We’re quite similar, aren’t we?”

He crushed the ant, tasting its flavor.

“Bitter.”

The man stood up and put his helmet back on.

The Empire’s emissary took his leave, his heavy footsteps resounding once more.

This time, his destination was the center of the city, where Viscount Grant’s mansion was located.

“I’m back…

Elan, you didn’t foolishly stand in the rain watching ants today, did you?”

In the evening, after returning from catching up on lessons with Elder Prude, Ian immediately heard a cheer and then saw a white blur rush into his embrace: “Welcome back!

I’ve been good!”

Ian shuddered slightly, dissipating the momentum of his little brother’s charge—although he was only ten years old and had not yet grown in stature, after two years of intense training in Hiliard, even the charge of a wild boar could be fully neutralized by him, let alone that of a four-year-old Terra child?

“Nope, I’ve been good!”

“Oh?

Yeah, very good.”

Pressing his head against his brother, Elan happily spoke while Ian silently reached out to touch his brother’s hair and clothes.

Hmm, not very wet, probably only briefly caught in the rain.

Although the Terra people hardly cared about such a small amount of rain and were almost incapable of catching a cold from it…

but what if?

This world had no antibiotics or fever medicine.

“Go play by yourself.

After dinner, I’ll continue to teach you to read and do arithmetic.”

Patting his brother’s head, Ian signaled for Elan to go take care of the potted plants in his room—strangely enough, Elan enjoyed watching ants and grass sprouting; he could happily stare at a blade of grass for an entire afternoon without moving.

Initially, Ian suspected it might be a side effect of the Sleep Powder, but having listened to Hiliard’s hint and thinking about the ‘Elven Bloodline,’ the boy somewhat understood.

—Those who know, understand; it’s the elves.

Although in this baffling Terra Continent filled with super behemoths, Aether Armaments, and widespread genetic modification, elves were still somewhat of a mystery to him, it seemed likely it was not too far-fetched.

Since Elan liked it, Ian would let him be, especially after realizing that this happy mood could somewhat heal Elan’s sensory perception disorders.

And especially since the little guy sang quite well, much better than him.

“The teacher has also been quite motivated lately, heading straight to the open sea for exploration after the disguising work is done.”

After estimating the time for a while, Ian decided to start cooking.

He thought it was very likely that he would not need to prepare a portion for Hiliard that day, as the other would probably have settled things outside and not return until the next morning.

But he thought about it and shook his head: “Never mind, save a few meat buns.

Too bad we can’t bake bread at home, or making a pollack burger would really be a breeze.”

With that thought in mind, a watery glow shone in Ian’s eyes.

This was the routine—he would habitually survey his surroundings with his Spirit Energy when he came home every day, as a form of caution and practice.

He had not skipped a single day in two years.

Ian thought that today would be the same as every other day.

Life was like that, always repeating, no different, with no noteworthy anomalies.

But, as he was preparing to chop the meat, the boy suddenly stopped his actions.

He frowned and turned his head towards where his brother was.

The soft pale blue spirit light flickered in Ian’s eyes, like a faintly glowing firefly within the dimly lit house.

And now, the firefly’s glow mirrored an unusual color.

“Not good.”

He murmured to himself: “The blood-red fog I haven’t seen in two years…”

“And, what’s this brand new deep purple fog?”